


Ambiguous

by Jaxon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/M, HP AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 11:21:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaxon/pseuds/Jaxon
Summary: Order member Lily did not have a baby.  Death Eater Severus did not hear a prophecy.  Consequently, the Dark Lord did not fall....but what happens when a long forgotten prophecy suddenly shakes, and flashes through the colours of the spectrum..?





	Ambiguous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunset_oasis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_oasis/gifts).



> I follow sunset_oasis, who posted: When I was a child Severus/Lily was my OTP...I want more tragic endings. Ambiguous endings. Endings that left more questions than they answered. Not-typical-HEAs are my favorite endings <3
> 
> So I interfered and obliged. :)

_1979_

Lily Evans lost her baby.  
  
It happened so early, she hadn’t even realised she was pregnant.  

There was no test, no celebration, and consequently, no proposal.

* * *

_1980_

Severus Snape strolled past the Hog’s Head.  He jangled the coins in his pocket, but he knew there was barely enough for a pumpkin juice, let alone a butterbeer, or a firewhisky, so there was no point in venturing in.

“Excuse me!”  A wild haired woman needlessly pushed past him, thumping him into the wall as she bustled in to the inn.  Severus frowned after her as he straightened his robes, and carried on his way.

If he’d followed her in, he’d have seen her take to the stairs.

If he’d followed her up the stairs, he’d have seen her enter a private room with none other than Albus Dumbledore.

If he’d seen Albus Dumbledore, he might have lingered outside, listening at the lock.

But Severus Snape had no money.  So Severus Snape did none of these things.  Instead, Severus Snape pulled his robes more tightly around him, and headed for home.

* * *

_1981_

Trelawney’s prophecy sat on the shelf in the Department of Mysteries, and gathered dust.

On Halloween, the prophecy shook slightly, expectantly, as if it was awaiting new information – but none came.

The next day, the prophecy was grey.  An Unspeakable silently removed it, and threw it into the ‘unfulfilled’ pile.

* * *

_1982_

It was unthinkable that the resistance kept fighting.  They were outnumbered 20 to 1, then 25 to 1, then 30 to 1.

Nobody had run the numbers this month.  It didn’t bear thinking about. _  
_

* * *

_1983_

The Ministry had fallen.  Hogwarts had been taken.  The Order had fearfully forced Dumbledore into hiding.  Remus Lupin was shackled at the Ministry.  Alastor Moody was dead.

Lord Voldemort was the wizarding world’s new leader.  He was flanked by his mysterious Death Eaters, their faces covered by their gleaming masks – but everyone of her age group knew who was amongst their number: Sirius’ brother, Regulus.  His cousin, Bellatrix.  Her sister’s husband, Lucius Malfoy – and her own husband, and his brother, the Lestranges.

There were other names, but they meant nothing to the younger members of the Order:  Rosier, Nott, Goyle, Wilkes, Rowle, Karkaroff, Yaxley. She couldn’t remember any others.  She wouldn’t have been able to pick them out of a line-up anyway.

There was one man she looked for.  She scoured the newspaper, desperately searching for a hint of the boy she’d once known, but she was never able to find him.

“Not able to find him,” James had pressed, angrily, tapping the newspaper, “or not willing to find him?”

* * *

_1985_

Remus was put to sleep under the Dangerous and Dark Creatures Act of 1984.

Peter was missing, presumed dead.

Sirius had used Regulus’ beloved House Elf, Kreacher to summon him to Grimmauld Place.  Neither man had made it out alive; but without a survivor to tell the tale, neither side could claim the victory.

“Victory.”

Lily didn’t know what she was fighting for anymore.

* * *

_1989_

She wrapped her thin coat more tightly around her as she wandered through the deserted mill town.

“Cold?”

The familiar voice sent a shiver through her, and she turned, half expecting to see a gleaming mask.

She didn’t expect to see a thin man in Muggle attire.  She didn’t expect to see a thin man in blue jeans, and black boots, and a terrible woolly jumper.

“You can have it,” he said, shrugging the garment off.

“I’m not sure I want it,” she laughed.  He held it out for so long, she took it from him.  She could see raised black hairs on his arms, and gooseflesh creeping beneath his short sleeves, but he refused to take it back.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know if I should tell you,” she said, warily.

“You’re absolutely right.” He gave her a watery smile.  “Constant vigilance.”

Lily’s heart thudded in her chest at hearing Moody’s words coming from his mouth.

“Keep the jumper.”

And he was gone.

* * *

_1992_

She threw her wand in the river, and moved south.

She called up Petunia, and told her the truth.  The new truth.  They’d cried together in a coffee shop as she’d pretended that the wizarding world didn’t exist.  That she’d had a breakdown.  That her parents had been trialling a bizarre method of therapy.

Petunia knew it was rot.

But Petunia wanted to believe it.

So she’d cleared out Dudley’s second bedroom, and the four of them made an ordinary happy family in the suburbs of Surrey.

* * *

_1996_

He stood outside.

Petunia was washing the dishes.  Lily was drying.  They both saw him at the same time, and the plate being passed between them slipped clumsily from wet fingers and crashed onto the tiled floor.

“What do you want?” she’d hissed, angrily, the dew from the grass soaking her sandal covered feet.

“I’ve come for my jumper.”

“What does that even mean?” She stared into his unfathomable black eyes and pounded her fists against his chest.

And with a crack, he was gone.

She turned, and the back door was closed.  “Tuney?”

Petunia’s hard face appeared at the window.  “I can’t pretend if you can’t keep your story straight.  I’ll leave your belongings by the front door.”

* * *

_1997_  
  
“How?” she whispered, as the man served her in the local supermarket.  

“Have you got my jumper?”

“I asked you what you meant, and you left.”

“Walk with me,” he said, closing his checkout.  

“What are you doing? You can’t just do that!”  She watched in astonishment as he closed the till off, and strolled to the door.  “You’ve got a line of customers.”

He shrugged.  “I don’t work here.”

She never worked out if he meant he’d quit on the spot, or whether he’d never worked there to begin with.

But she still followed him.

“What happened to constant vigilance, eh?” he asked, lighting a cigarette, and offering her the pack.  

She shook her head.  “Are you still in that world?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“…yes.”

“Yes.”

“Are you still on his side?”

He smirked.  That familiar almost sneer looked out of place on his much older face.  “That depends on who _he_ is, doesn’t it?”

She fell silent.  She thought about asking him again, and then decided she’d rather not know.

They went back to her place.

The next morning, he pulled on his jumper.

It was 29 degrees outside.

* * *

_1998_  
  
The Department of Mysteries was mostly unmanned.  Research wasn’t seen as a priority in the new world order – not when there were Muggleborns to process.  
  
Vice Minister Umbridge saw the Department as a non-entity.

Which is a pity.

Because a fully staffed Department of Mysteries might have seen a prophecy shake, and then flash through the colours of the spectrum.

Even a grey prophecy on the ignored, unwanted, unfulfilled pile.

* * *

_1998_  
  
She gave birth to a tiny black haired boy, with a scrunched up nose, and tiny red fists.

“Will they know about him?”

“Yes, if he’s magical.”

“How will they know?”

“The Hogwarts book.”

“How do we keep him safe?”

He looked at her sadly.

* * *

_1999_  
  
“What do you mean, there’s a prophecy?”

“He told me.”

“And who is _he_ , Severus? Who is _he_?”  

She held Harry to her chest, and sobbed.  

* * *

_1999_

Halloween hadn’t been a thing before she’d entered the wizarding world.  

60s Muggle Britain hadn’t been known for trick or treating, or costume parties, or carving pumpkins. Everyone was focused on November 5th, building bonfires, planning community firework parties, and fetching a penny for the guy.

But at the turn of the century, Halloween was a thing for British Muggles.

“Nice costume, mister!”

* * *

_1999_  
  
His mark burnt so badly, it bled.

She grabbed his jumper and wrapped it around the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.  

“It’s no use.  He knows where we are.”

She grabbed Harry.  “What do we do?”

He kissed her soundly, and handed her his wand.  “Go without me.”

“I can’t!”

“It’s me he can trace. Not you and our boy.”

“I won’t.”

“You will!  Take Harry and side-along!”

“I don’t, I don’t remember-”

“The three Ds!” he yelled.

She gripped his wand, the magic unfamiliar and unstable in her hand.  

There was a loud crack, and the room filled with light.


End file.
